The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Sherry closed the door of her car, from her position standing beside it on the driveway. She looked up at her new house, feeling a mixture of excitement and nerves.

She loved the house; it was why she’d bought it, and uprooted her entire life to move into it. It was secluded in the wilderness, many miles away from civilization in any direction. And she’d been up to see it with her realtor multiple times, so she felt like she knew it a little.

But she didn’t feel like she knew it well, and this was the nerves came from. The house had a personality to it— it had been standing for a lot longer than she’d even been alive, and she had the irrational concern that the house would somehow reject her presence— that it would somehow consider her unworthy of occupying it.

It was only a house; she knew it couldn’t really do that. But looking at it sitting there, so majestically at the end of the drive, seated among the trees— the illusion that it could or would was powerful.

She shifted the ring of keys in her hand, handling them absentmindedly. All that was left to do was to walk up to the front door of that grand stately house, and let herself in. She’d paid extra to have all her things shipped ahead of time, and she’d been wearing the same outfit and staying in a hotel room for the last few days before she’d made the drive up. She’d had a few final loose ends to tie up before coming up here for good— but at least all of her belongings and all of her clothes were already waiting for her inside, all unpacked and put away.

And she didn’t have to carry anything in with her, except her keys, the purse that was slung over her shoulder, and her own person.

She had just decided that she was up to the task of entering the house, and had just taken a step forward towards doing so, when she was stopped in place by the sound of someone calling to her.

It was an eerie, hollow sound that didn’t come from nearby. It sounded distant, so it was hard to make out; and for a moment, Sherry thought she might have imagined it.

Then it repeated, sounding like it was coming from much closer. This time, it sounded like “Hello,” but there was still an echo in it. And in the next moment, there was a shift in the trees along the one side of her driveway.

Hands emerged, pushing branches and leaves aside, and then a woman was emerging through the trees.

Sherry thought she looked like the equivalent of her own house, in human form; elegant and grand— stately and majestic, even though she was only wearing casual clothes. It was something about her frame— something about the way she held herself; maybe even something in her bone structure. Sherry had never seen anyone like her before.

As the woman came through the trees, she looked around, along the length of Sherry’s drive. The moment in which she spotted Sherry was obvious, and once she had, when she was free of the trees, she came straight to her.

“I thought I heard a car,” she said, once she was standing in front of her. “Hello there. My name is Daphne.”

She extended her hand to Sherry’s. Sherry was delayed in taking it for a second because she was looking at it instead. Daphne’s nails were short, but perfectly short; completely symmetrical, and coated in a clear, slick polish.

Sherry realized that she’d been staring, and responded to the extension of Daphne’s hand by finally reaching out and taking it in her own for a second.

Daphne’s hand had a warmth to it— or maybe warmth wasn’t the right word. Maybe electricity would have been a better one; it felt like there was some kind of coursing energy beneath Daphne’s skin, in the power of her grip, and for the moment Sherry’s hand was in it, she felt as if she was getting a minor shock.

Daphne did not shake hands with Sherry, as Sherry had expected. Instead, she only gave Sherry’s hand a light squeeze, and then dropped it.

Sherry barely noticed that Daphne’s action had differed from her expectation. Her mind had been thrown out of focus by that buzz of electricity she’d brushed against.

“And your name is?” Daphne prompted, tilting her head and inclining closer, as if trying to look inside Sherry.

Sherry shook herself out of her moment of distraction. “I’m Sherry,” she said— and was relieved to hear that her voice sounded normal to her own ears. “I just bought this house, and I’m moving in here today.”

Daphne looked from her to the house. “Ah, yes, I wondered how long it would stand empty. Well, you’ve chosen one of the finest, so well done, there. You clearly have good taste.”

Sherry didn’t know why, but found she felt happy to have been given this kind of recognition by Daphne. It didn’t dim the other feelings she’d had before, when Daphne had first appeared. Who was this woman? What had she been doing in the forest? Her emergence almost hadn’t seemed real— like she were a mythic creature, and not a human woman.

“I’m sorry, but who are you?” Sherry pressed.

Daphne looked back from the house to Sherry. “I’m your neighbor, Sherry. I’ve got the property just next to yours. Though the two of them are both a bit sprawling, it’s not a long walk. Maybe about fifteen minutes, through these woods. But the woods here are nothing— the ones that bridge our two properties. They look dense from the drive, but they’re quite sparse once you get inside of them. You only have to struggle through the branches a bit to get out.

“It’s the woods behind our houses that get dense. I wouldn’t go out into them alone, and I definitely wouldn’t go out into them at night. But the walk between our two properties is quite safe, no matter the time of day.”

Sherry frowned, not sure how to interpret this speech that Daphne had just given her out of nowhere. It sounded almost like a veiled invitation; but Sherry wasn’t sure about that. “I’m sorry,” Sherry said. “But why would I be making the walk to your house?”

“To come and see me, Sherry,” Daphne explained, as if this were a basic concept to grasp.

“And why would I come and see you?” Sherry asked, still not understanding.

“It’s very secluded up here,” Daphne went on. “We are, essentially, completely isolated. The isolation can be pleasant at times. At least, I find it to be. But it can also be lonely. We’re the only two souls around, up here. So we can be each other’s social outlet. If you find the loneliness of your new home too much, and you don’t want to make the drive into town— you can just make the short walk over to my door, and I’ll open it for you anytime of day or night.”

“Well, thank you anyway, but I think I’ll be just fine keeping to myself,” Sherry countered.

Daphne gave a nod. “As you like. But you know where to find me if you change your mind.”

She did not give a more formal goodbye than this. Instead, she turned back towards the trees and disappeared through them the way she had come.

In the first few days of living at the house, Sherry found she enjoyed the quiet and solitude of the place. And her initial first impression of the house turned out to be wrong. It was not hostile and judgemental to her— it seemed to open itself to her arrival, room leading to room as if it were always inviting her more deeply to come in, and come in further. She felt very welcome in it— she even felt at home.

There were some rooms that hadn’t even been mentioned to her at the time of purchase; and rooms she hadn’t seen before on any of the tours. Some of them were behind trick doorways or down long passages, but all of them were beautiful.

The house was opening itself to her like a flower, with each new discovery revealing further hidden depths and secrets, and it was beautiful to see the house flowering for her in that way.

But after a few weeks, once Sherry felt more settled in, her mood started to change.

It was not a shift in the house— it was as welcoming and familiar as ever. It was the silence— it was the solitude. It was dragging on her; she realized she’d never gone so long without speaking to another person. And she could drive in to the nearest town, miles and miles away, and make chitchat with perfect strangers.

But Sherry felt she wanted to speak to someone who she had at least a tangential acquaintance with. She didn’t want to make any new introductions.

Which meant that her option was Daphne— as strange as she found her.

Before Sherry could talk herself out of it, or change her mind, she shrugged into a light coat, and ventured down her drive and in through the trees to the woods.

As Daphne had told her, it was a little work to get past the first branches, but once she was among the inner thicket, the trees were much more sparsely placed, and easy to maneuver.

The trees were sparse enough that Sherry could see to the exit of the woods, even though it was further ahead. She kept herself walking straight in that direction, until at last she had reached the other side. Before she knew it, she was fighting her way out past the branches the same as she’d fought her way in.

Once she emerged, she found herself standing on a sloping hill, which ran up to a house.

Immediately, she thought the impression she’d had of Daphne when she’d first seen her had been wrong. She’d thought that Daphne was the human equivalent of her own house. She could see now that this was incorrect: Daphne was equivalent to Daphne’s house.

There was something in the structure of it that reminded Sherry of the way that Daphne stood. And something in its details that reminded Sherry of the way Daphne held herself, the way she moved. It was strange to see these qualities in an inanimate thing, but there could be no doubt about it. This house was Daphne’s, and Daphne’s personality was perhaps so bold as to influence even an inanimate structure to take on her characteristics.

At least, that was how Sherry felt as she looked up at it.

She wasted no more time standing there and looking, and instead made the walk up to the house’s dark front door.

She used the heavy brass knocker when she knocked, bringing it down in place against the door. She wondered if it would be loud enough for Daphne to hear, wherever she was in the house.

It turned out that it had been loud enough, because only a minute or two later, there was Daphne, opening up the door.

“Sherry, nice to see you again,” she acknowledged, wearing that strange smile of hers as she spoke. “Why don’t you come in?”

Sherry accepted the invitation, stepping past Daphne to enter her foyer.

It was larger and more sprawling than Sherry’s own, and Sherry couldn’t help but look around in appreciation of it.

“I thought you might come sooner, but I’m not surprised you didn’t. I imagine you never lived alone in the country before— so it took you awhile to realize what it can really be like, and a little while longer than that to get sick of it.”

Sherry felt a little speechless. Daphne had pinned her thought process exactly. It only strengthened her impression that Daphne herself was strange, and maybe not only human— maybe more than human, supernatural instead.

“What can I say?” Sherry spoke after a minute. “That is what happened for me.”

Daphne only smiled a small smile in response, as if Sherry’s confirmation had been entirely expected and unsurprising.

“I was sitting in my library reading before you knocked,” Daphne said, next. “Would you like to come back to it with me?”

Sherry gave a shrug. “Sure.” She still didn’t entirely know why she’d come over here. She’d had no agenda, and no projected plans. She’d only wanted to be in the company of another person, so she might as well follow Daphne’s lead. It wasn’t as if she expected anything. She just didn’t want to be alone any longer.

Daphne led the way down the foyer, until it faded into a hallway, and down the hallway, until it led to a door on the righthand side. She gave the knob a turn, and then further led the way into a brightly lit library.

There wasn’t much in it, aside from books. There was one low couch, which sat in front of a fireplace. And all the rest in the room was freestanding shelves lined in books, set up around in the room’s interior, leaving the exterior walls bare— so that the wall which bordered on the outside world could be covered in windows, sending light streaking in, and the wall which bordered on the hallway could be covered in tastefully chosen and tastefully placed art.

“It’s a lovely room,” Sherry said, as she stood just inside the entrance.

“I applaud your taste again, Sherry,” Daphne said. “It takes a sharp eye to appreciate a carefully curated space like this. So, again, well done.”

Sherry found herself sparking up in response to Daphne’s praise once again, maybe more powerfully than the time before.

“You can take a book and read, if you like— or sit here on the sofa with me, whatever you prefer. We can interact, if you want, but we don’t have to. Sometimes, it can be enough just to be in the company of someone else without actually socializing.”

It was again as if Daphne had read her mind— had read in it exactly why Sherry had come, the exact thing she was looking for, and was now offering it to her.

“I don’t mind reading,” Sherry said. “But I don’t think I’m interested in it right now. I’ll just sit down and… sit. You can go back to reading if you want.”

“Certainly, if that’s what you wish,” Daphne said. She seated herself on the sofa, and took up the half-open book which had been left on the end table next to her.

Sherry stepped around the sofa to sit at the other end of it. She found it to be a comfortable piece of furniture, and it offered a pleasant vantage point. If she looked up, she could see a high ceiling above her. If she looked to her left, she could see the outside wilderness through the tall wide windows. If she looked right, she saw Daphne, and then past her, the wall that led back to the hallway, on the other side of it— and the carefully placed pieces of art that adorned it.

And if she looked ahead, she could see the decadently designed, though for the moment empty, fireplace.

There was plenty to see, even if she were only sitting here looking around herself— much like in her own house. But the real reason she’d come was paying off— it made all the difference. At home, she could have sat and looked around at all the beautiful facets to her own house.

But when she sat looking around here, she was very aware of Daphne’s presence. The quiet didn’t sound so loud, here— and the house didn’t feel so empty as her own would, when she went back to it. There was another person here— Sherry felt it on the inside, even when she wasn’t looking at Daphne— even as Daphne went on reading so quietly, barely even making any noise when she turned a page.

After awhile, Sherry found herself thinking about the moment when Daphne had taken hold of her hand— that minor shock of electricity that she’d gotten. There seemed to be something electric about Daphne even now, as she sat there reading. Somehow, Sherry was sensing that coursing energy beneath Daphne’s surface again. It felt like it was radiating outwards, electrifying and magnetizing the air in the room— and especially the air between the two of them, where they were sitting.

Daphne seemed oblivious to this, but Sherry felt it more strongly the longer that she went on sitting there. She tried not to be too alarmed by it— but it was an unsettling thing. There was something very abnormal about all of this. It felt more like a hallucination than it felt like something that was happening in Sherry’s real life. It couldn’t be real… Surely Sherry was imagining all of this, sleeping somewhere far away.

And the longer she sat there, noticing this, the more she felt as if it were calling her sanity into question, which was an upsetting feeling in itself.

She tried to put it out of her mind again. Maybe she was seeing things— but she had been completely alone and shut up in her house for weeks. Maybe that was the reason— maybe that was having some effect.

She looked back to the fireplace ahead of her, and set herself the task of counting the bricks with her eyes as she sat there. One brick at a time… it occupied her mind, at least, and kept her from feeling that electric energy sparking through the air. At least, it kept her from feeling it too much.

Time seemed to warp a little; maybe it came to a stop, in that moment where Sherry counted and Daphne read.

But sometime after that, Sherry was distracted from her counting; she felt something brush her arm.

She looked down to see that it was Daphne’s hand, resting against her skin.

The touch felt the same before— electricity pouring into her body through the point of contact. But Daphne did not leave her hand static, in the place where she had first touched down. Instead, she began dragging her touch along Sherry’s arm in long repeating strokes; down the length of it, and back up again.

Daphne was not looking at Sherry as she did this— she was still reading her book, and if she were only judging by the look on Daphne’s face, Sherry would have thought that Daphne wasn’t doing anything at all. But all the same, she was dragging her touch along Sherry’s arm, even the expression on her face didn’t betray that fact.

Sherry got more of a feel for the electricity with each repeated stroke. It spread further throughout her body. It did not stay localized to her arm, but slipped into her muscles, and fanned out through her body. It was like Daphne was charging her up with every touch, filling her with electric warmth.

Sherry could feel herself sweating; there was too much heat in her body, and all that was happening inside was that the charge was circling her system, and growing stronger; feeding on itself, and feeding on what Daphne was still sending into her.

After awhile it started to feel like electrocution— just not a lethal form. Slow, sustained electrocution that was maybe building up to a lethal level, but for the moment survivable. But it caused more discomfort as it went on, becoming more uncomfortable all the time.

Just when Sherry felt that she couldn’t take it anymore, Daphne withdrew her hand, and raised it back to join her other in holding the book she was still reading.

The electricity was in her for awhile after that, as she sat. But eventually, it fizzled and sputtered out. And the feeling Sherry had after that was cold.

So cold she could hardly remember warmth— so cold she was badly craving heat again almost immediately. As soon as it faded, she wanted it back. She wanted Daphne’s touch on her body again, but wasn’t quite sure how to get it. She wasn’t even sure why Daphne had given it in the first place.

Her best chance was to be straightforward. “Daphne,” she said. “Will you touch me again?”

Daphne closed her book, and looked back up at her. There was something vaguely sinister in her eyes, but Sherry didn’t feel frightened of it this time.

“I knew you had good taste,” Daphne said. “But it seems your taste is better than good. You’ve proven your taste to be immaculate— since I am a fine thing, and it seems you have the taste for me now. Who am I to deny you?”

Daphne turned her body to face Sherry’s more effectively, and then she was pouring her touch all over Sherry, in long broad strokes. Sherry could only shudder into it, feeling the charge start back in her. What had been cold and gone was now flamingly present. It was starting to feel like a new core to her being— she had almost collapsed around its lack, but now that the charge had returned, she felt full— whole and complete.

“You felt I was charging you up before, didn’t you?”

Sherry could only nod.

“I’m charging you up now, too, but I’ll tell you what I’m charging you up for. I’m charging you up to be mine— a slave to her Mistress. The more charged up you get, the less you think, the emptier and more receptive you become. Just keep feeling it.”

Daphne didn’t seem to have anything else to say after that, because her focus went entirely into her task of touching Sherry. After some time longer, she coaxed Sherry’s body free of her clothes, and Sherry let her, following the coaxing as it led her into nakedness.

Once she was naked next to Daphne, Daphne could touch even more of her, sending that electricity everywhere throughout her. It was starting to feel like pleasure— starting to feel like perfection— starting to feel like the only thing Sherry ever wanted to feel again.

It felt even more like electrocution this time around. Unlike before, when it had only been a physical feeling, this time, it was a mental feeling too. She could feel it searing in her brain, burning her thoughts away. Leaving her blank and open and receptive… just the way Daphne had told her to be…

Sherry shuddered again as Daphne went on touching her. Less and less thought with every touch… more and more heat… it wouldn’t be long, now… soon all thought would stop entirely— and that heat in her would go on circulating, to make sure no thoughts came back.

Sherry didn’t mind the idea so much. It felt like a nice way to be. It was the only way she wanted to be, now. Open and receptive… charged up with obedience; full of circulating warmth— electrified with Daphne’s control.

She already was— she could feel that the point of no-return had been reached, and she was glad for it. She could keep this feeling indefinitely— stay this way indefinitely, alone, up here in the woods with Daphne… and that would be just fine with her.

That would be just fine with her.